Dinner
by kurgaya
Summary: IchiHitsu - third holiday drabble - Title says it all really; just a few short short drabbles about dinner in the hotel.


**Note (8/8/11):** I just can't stay away can I? There's just so much to write about! This set of drabbles is unoriginally named 'Dinner' for the lack of a better title, and I can't be bothered to think one up. Still, I guess the title isn't too much of an issue considering the length of this thing.

Again, sorry for any spelling mistakes - no spell check, and, again, Toshiro is spelt like that.

And yes, she's a ninja, I'm _convinced_.

* * *

><p><strong>Dinner<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>1.<strong>

Standing in the short queue for the grilled chicken, Ichigo leaned forward to whisper in Toshiro's ear; "See the chef?" There was a pause before he got a hushed hum in agreement. Ichigo grinned widely and glanced at the busy man himself before saying, "Do you think he'd appreciate it if I knocked off his hat?"

"If he's anything like Urahara," Toshiro whispered back, stepping forward as the queue moved. "Then no, I don't think he would."

**2.**

Ichigo followed his husband's frozen gaze, paling considerably when he spied what the teal eyes were staring at. "Toshiro..." he warned slowly, his chocolate eyes shooting back to the other male as he took a hesitant step forwards. "Control yourself..."

These words seemed to snap Toshiro out of his stupor, and he snorted, loud and sudden enough to cause a passing guest to jump back into one of the low buffet tables in surprise.

"'Control yourself'," Toshiro muttered, fixing his husband with an unimpressed look. "How can I? Have you seen how much watermelon there is on that table? I might as well take the whole tray."

The thoughtful look that appeared on the unusually tanned face made Ichigo realize that his husband was actually considering this. "That's why I'm telling you to control yourself," he said again, edging closer to his hungry beloved, feeling as if the whole situation would explode if he didn't do _something_ soon.

Maybe he should just grab one of the whole watermelons, he thought, knowing that if he tried to seperate the dragon and the fruit everything _really would_ explode. That wouldn't look too weird would it? A man running through the hotel with a 'child' clucthing a wooping great big watermelon slung over his shoulder...

Okay, there was no need to answer that.

**3.**

"And you call yourself a taicho," he mumbled quietly, raising his thin white eyebrows to emphasize his pointed look. Ichigo was still spluttering with laughter opposite, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

While he had literally _glanced_ absentmindedly at the large buffet on the other side of the room, his orange fringe falling over his interested brown eyes, the petite dark haired waiter had zipped in and taken his empty plate right out from underneath his nose.

He _hadn't even noticed_.

"She's a ninja!" he exclaimed between breaths in a pathetic attempt to defend himself, holding his side as if it would help quell his laughs. "I can't compete with ninjas!"

**4.**

"That kid," Ichigo began, settling down at the small square table and switching his husband's attention from his dinner to his words; 'that kid' could have been any of the dozen or so children whizzing in and out of the tables filling the room. "Was staring at me," he continued, looking adorably like a lost dog. "I've got no idea why."

One quick glance at his spouse was all it took for Toshiro to return to his meal, humming in agreement.

There was vanilla ice cream on Ichigo's nose, but he wasn't about to tell him that.

**5.**

"Oh my god," Ichigo mumbled through his mouthful of cake. The background clatter of the restaurant did very little to muffle the delight in his voice, and, upon hearing this, Toshiro looked up at his husband from behind his glass of red wine.

(Admittedly, it wasn't the best wine he had ever had)

Ichigo scooped up another healthy portion of the rather unhealthy looking cake; thick layers of chocolate and cream piled up to produce something that look quite like death on a plate, and the taicho shoved it into his awaiting mouth, sliding off any of the rich dark chocolate sauce that stuck to the spoon with his lips. "This cake is gorgeous."

"Makes up for the rest of the meal," Toshiro replied, talking about the giant selection of _nothing_ that the rest of the hotel's guest were wandering around aimlessly, holding empty plates with frowns on their sun-burnt faces. But Ichigo didn't catch his spouse's words, having finished off his dessert and hurried back to where he had found it, as if there would be none left for him to eat in the single minute that had passed for him to devour his first helping.

Toshiro shook his head, amused. "Pig," he muttered under his breath as Ichigo soon returned with a dazzling grin on his face as well as a sickly sized amount of the chocolate atrocity that he had taken a liking to.

"You should try this," said the ginger, pointing down at the treat with his spoon. Toshiro chuckled and finished off his wine, wondering if there was going to be any left when he got around to it.

At the rate his husband was currently stuffing his face at, probably not.

**6.**

"Oh wow, look," gasped Ichigo, and Toshiro immediately looked over to where his husband was pointing out of the large windows lining the far restaurant wall. It had just turned nine oclock in the evening, a rather late meal for them, but the weather was sticky enough for them to not compain, and the sky was just beginning to drift into a soft pink from the purple hovering above the horizon.

He could _feel_ the side-splitting grin appear on Ichigo's face moments later and he frowned, turning away from the beautiful scene outside of the window. "You did that to nick my last piece of cake didn't you?"

Smiling through said cake, Ichigo gave Toshiro enough indication to let him know his words were true.

**7.**

There was a 'clang' and a curse, and Toshiro frowned at his husband's forming frown. "What?" he asked, but there was no need as he glanced down at Ichigo's plate and found the answer lying before him.

"Some stupid idiot," said Ichigo, putting the now half-empty pot of pepper back onto the table. "Thought it would be _funny_ to unscrew the lid."

Ichigo's dinner now coated in a thick blanket of pepper and the metal pepper lid rolling across the table, Toshiro turned away to hide his laugh from his pouting, irritated husband.

* * *

><p>You know the routine, reviews are very welcome! So thank you for reading, and good night everybody :D<p>

xTKx


End file.
